Voldermort stormed the house seeking the boy who would live. Seeking the boy who would ruin all that he worked so hard to obtain. No, he would not allow this child to live. He would finish off James the fifthly child's father first. A Cruciatus seemed to give the poor excuse of a man his just due. There James lay bloodied, convulsing in front of the Dark Lord. The next would be the disgusting half blood whore of a mother. Lily Evans. The thought of her disgusting blood mingling with pure and righteous blood made him sick. It was repulsive it made his stomach churn and he could feel the bile rising in his throat. He watched as the turned around and fear in her eyes. She tried her best to defend the small young child crying, but with a flick of his wand she too experienced the same fate as her partner. Voldermort looked into the deep blue pools of the young toddler. He would take his throne and the only thing standing in his way was this small child. He rose his wand and struck the child dead. The Dark Lord's reign then took hold of the world….

I am not my own. I am a robot of what this society tells me I am supposed to be. I am a trophy daughter of a union that is unfaithful. I live in a world of darkness, pain and of so many things that even the night's evil pales in comparison to this world. I claim royalty but scream for normalcy. I pledge allegiance but provoke rebellion. I will become my own. I am Lucinda Bellatrix Malfoy.

The rain slid down the iron wrought windows in Malfoy manner. It was deathly quiet. The house was lavishly styled and the gothic architecture created the evil ambience in the room. The manor consisted of over three hundred rooms. These rooms are used to hide family secrets one of which is my father's illicit affair with one of the estates' slaves. Granger. She is what my father would claim a filthy half-blood that has a shape tongue and quick wit. That however, does not stop him from shagging her relentlessly in one of the three hundred rooms within the home. Many of the times he is off his rocker drunk, but he knew that if the Dark Lord ever found out about his affair he would lose a lot more than a chance to release his frustration. So, in order to keep my mother, Astoria, quiet he allows her to have a string of lovers and buys here anything she wants.

Their relationship is one of understanding neither wanted to marry one another. It was a forced union, an arranged marriage. So, they do what any reasonable person would do. They cheat on each other and pretend like everything is copasetic at galas. It absolutely repulses me.

The loud banging of drunken footsteps interrupted my train of thought. It was my debauched father stumbling into the sitting room. He walked through the doorway catching sight of me.

"You!"

He pointed his scrawny finger at me in a long menacing line. I began to move quickly. I knew what was coming next because he has done this to me ever since I could remember. He would get drunk, shag the slave, and then there would be the drunken abuse. That part I hated the most.

I began to hasten my pace as he chased me down corridors and through rooms. I would feel the tears welling in my eyes I would not allow him to hurt me I was old enough almost seventeen years of age. He would not touch me. HE WOULD NOT.

The tears stung my eye and fell faster than my footsteps hitting the ground. That's when the inventible happened my foot caught a loose object on the floor. I screamed a string of curse words and my body began to fall against the hard marble flooring. To my dismay my father was right in tow.

After recovering from my blow, I received sixteen more one for every year my father has had to 'put up' with me. When he finished releasing my anger he left me on the floor bloodied and crushed. Blood flowed from places I did not even know it could and my right eye was swollen shut. I refused to cry. I made that pact a long time ago. I would not give him the satisfaction in my tears.

I sat on the floor for what seemed like an eternity until a pair of gentle arms pulled me from my position. I didn't need to look up to know who it was. It was my best friend. It was the son of one of the lesser families that was bought by my father.

Dmitri Weasley

He was my age, stocky build and chocolate brown hair with red undertones. He had a very definitive jaw line that tightened when he was angry or thinking. His hands were calloused and his skin had freckles. Perhaps the most riveting thing about this man was eyes. They were green, but not just any green they were a pure green. The colour of an emerald that sparkled in the sunlight. His eyes usually spoke for him when words were not an option. That usually meant when we were seen outside of our secret meeting spaces. His eyes would tell me anything. They could comfort me, they could hurt me, they could give me strength, and they could pity me. Pity. What a silly thing! He should be pitied by me! I should be the one pitying him, but I do not. I am a pitiable creature.

Memories began to flood into my mind as I tried to keep the sliver of consciousness I still obtained. I would hear Dmitir's sigh and felt his whole body heave as he watched me fight to keep my eyes open. I looked up one last time before I lost touch with reality to see those green eyes burning with pity.

I am back at Malfoy manner and am embodied in a younger form of myself. I seemed about four or five and was currently playing in the great room. My mother was out on one of her 'excursions' or adventures in whoredom as I like to call them. But at the time I did not know of her promiscuous behavior so I just called it shopping I was not familiar with the extracurricular relationships my parents carried on, but this was the day I learned of one.. My mother was out shopping and I was playing with the latest toy she bought for me to buy my love. Atypical of anyone in the Malfoy family. The toy became quite boring rather fast and I decided as any curious five year old would that I would explore the expanse mansion that I called a house. I explored room after room creating stories of adventure with my imaginary friends. My adventure and fun continued until I stumbled upon a room that I found I would pay the price for twelve years later.

I gasped as any child would walking in on such baffling behavior. I caught my father engaged in less than proper behavior with our housemaid Hermione. My father realizing what had occurred in his moment of ecstasy immediately ceased his conduct and began to charge for me. I looked at him wide eyed and fearfully as his manic expression grew with greater intensity as he approached. I tried to run, but five year old can only run so far with their stubby legs.

That was when I received my first beating. I wailed in agony screaming for help begging to Weasley woman to help me. She tried her best to help, but that only angered my father more causing the beating to become more brutal. One he was done he threw me out of the room then laying the rest of his wrath on Hermione. I cried and cried outside the door hoping that someone would hear me.

When I had finally given up hope and come to terms that this pain wasn't going to go away I heard a pair of faint footsteps approach me. It was one of the Weasley children my father had just bought. He was tall, and a little chubby. He picked me up and brought me to another room so he could get some help with my wounds.

"I'm gonna help you" he whispered as he picked me up and began to walk through the corridors.

I smiled because talking wasn't really an option from all the screaming I did. I nodded and tried to show I was thankful.

"By the way I'm Dmitri."

I just smiled again and felt my eyes grow increasingly heavy, but right before I closed them I could see that look. The look that pitied me.

I was harshly awakened to find light streaming through the broad windows of the room. I noticed that this room wasn't just any room, but it wasn't my room. I knew that this was a meeting place that Dmitri and I shared.

My head ached and many part of my body were bandaged from the night's earlier events. I groaned slightly and slowly lifted my body so that I could sit up.

"I don't know why you take it."

I jumped slightly because I was unaware that there was another figure in the room. Dmitri stood next to the bed with his brow furrowed slightly.

I rubbed my temples and forehead.

"Malfoy family honor, it is worthy of disownment if ye shall ever raise your wand against your family. Also considering the position my father is in I would have a better chance of raising my wand against my own being."

He gave me one of his famous looks, the looked that said 'I seriously don't believe your shite.'

"Well, we could just run away. You know take off and escape this blasted place."

I sighed knowing that this conversation was taking a menacing turn into an area that I did not want to go. I knew that we could technically run away but where would we go? Running away would be running to our death. It was illogical and unsuccessful from the get go. If we ran we would certainly be captured and sent to Wizarding Court to face trials.

"Look, I know you think that leaving is a good idea, but let's just think about this okay? If we were to run we would face our imminent capture and our very probable death. Plus you have a family to think about. Anyway it doesn't matter because we both leave for Hogwarts in a week."

That was one of the few things the Dark Lord allowed to remain the same in this blasted world. He allowed Hogwarts to remain open, but did not allow anyone but pure bloods to attend. The only way anyone else was allowed entrance was if their family sent a servant with them.

I was allowed to pick my servant and of course I picked Dmitri. He was the most faithful person I knew, and he was really good at herbology. Plus I enjoyed his company.

Aside from Hogwarts, everything changed the second the Dark Lord seized power. Muggles were put in their place. Many were killed in a mass genocide when the death eaters were allowed to run the streets. Many were thrown into lower levels of work that wouldn't even be suitable for the lowest of animals. Mythical creatures were caged and only used for fine pelts or other work that could not be completed, but perhaps the worst thing was the treatment of the mudbloods and lesser families. If they were lucky then they were bought into affluent families. However, many of the mudbloods were tested on. They were the guinea pig of new spells, products, wands, you name it and a mudblood suffered through it.

It was horrendous. There were pictures in the Daily Prophet that Veeta Skeeter, Rita's Granddaughter, posted that still gave me nightmares at night. The screams and shattered hope of those poor mudbloods.

The world pledged allegiance to Voldermort and his power. If anyone was found guilty of treason, and trust me they will find you. Then you died. They found you, bound you, tortured, you and then? Killed you.

All is not well in the world it is cruel and menacing.

"Your mother is here you better go to greet her."

Dmitri helped her up with his strong hands. He gently placed his hand on the small of her back and lead her to the dining room where her mother consumed her morning meal and read her Daily Prophet.

"Thank you Dmitri"

The raised her hand and waved it dismissively not even looking up from her prophet. Dmitri bowed to his mistress and looked at me. He shot me the whole 'be careful/ I hate your mom' and then left the room.

"My dear there will be a Gala tonight to introduce you to your new fiancé . This is the night that we will go public on your engagement that is all."

I stood there with my mouth agape, ready to argue. Things were going to change.